The front door is open; itâs never open.
The soft pads of my feet patter against the marble floor as I make my way to the entrance, following the bright light of day.
I can already smell the fresh air and the warmth before I step outside. The grass in the front yard is lush and although itâs fall, the weather is lovely.
I havenât stepped on the porch at all. Not once since Iâve been here, and the thought seems too odd to be a reality, but it is. I was carried inside, and Iâve only ever looked through the etched glass of the windows but I donât try to do that often as it is. It just seems cruel to tease myself like that.
I glance behind me, down the foyer, and then peek outside, but I donât see anyone. Not at first. Not until I take a step onto the smooth slate porch and then another.
I hear him first, Jase. With a phone to his ear, he walks around the side of the house and then back up. Thereâs a hitch in my breath and a slam in my chest; I freeze, but only for a split second.
Iâm walking outside.
Iâm not trying to run away. Although I have to force my limbs to move, I do just that. Staring Jase in the eyes, I walk to the stairs. Theyâre grand and massive, just as youâd expect for an estate like this. Not to mention beautiful. Everything about this place looks expensive and each detail intricate, from the trimmed bushes and groomed flower beds to the arched driveway paved with cobblestone, reflects an elegance from whoever lives here.
I nearly snort just thinking about Carter choosing all these details. Carter is anything but elegant.
I hold Jaseâs gaze as I slowly sit on the steps. A large column blocks me from his view and I can imagine heâll come running.
So sorry to interrupt his phone call. The captive is fleeing; call the guards, call the guards!
A genuine laugh makes my shoulders shake at the sarcastic thoughts. As I lean against the column, enjoying the sun that dances across my skin and the fresh breeze, Jase comes running up the yard, just as I anticipated.
Rolling my eyes, I give him a face. A face that says, are you fucking kidding me?
âIâm on break from being the prisoner. I called in a temporary replacement,â I mutter.
His lips twitch like he wants to smile, but he doesnât. He doesnât say anything, not to me and not for a few minutes. I can hear the sound of someone speaking from his phone although I canât make out the words. He doesnât seem to pay attention to them at all.
My heart beats a little harder and anxiety trickles slowly into my veins. My foot nervously taps on the stone steps, but I hold my ground. Even as I start to get emotional, knowing that I canât even step outside without someone losing their shit, I stay right the hell where I am and enjoy the fucking porch.
âIâll call you back,â Jase finally speaks, although itâs still not to me. My muscles get rigid and my teeth clench together. If he thinks heâs taking me inside⦠I swallow thickly at the thought. What am I really going to do? I can at least kick him. One good hard kick, maybe in the shin. I nod my head faintly at the idea, keeping my eyes on a few leaves that have turned a beautiful shade of auburn as they sway in the gentle wind. If he puts a hand on me to force me back inside, I swear Iâm going to kick his ass.
A soft grin tugs at my lips. Itâs nice to feel like a tough girl at least. And like I have a choice.
âYou picked a good day,â Jase says, and I lift my gaze to see him slipping the phone into his pocket before he climbs the first few steps to sit by me but on a stair lower than mine.
Iâm quiet for a moment, gauging how he looks so comfortable and acts like this is normal. Just like he did in the kitchen.
âIt is nice.â I nip at my lower lip before adding, âI used to have a balcony off of my bedroom. I liked sitting out there.â
He glances back at me for a moment but ends it with a short, almost sad smile and then he leans back, bracing his forearms on the step behind him.
I guess my guard has decided to pretend to be my friend and just sit by me.
âWho designed this place?â I ask him, wanting a distraction and to think of anything but last night.
I woke up alone and thatâs exactly how Iâve felt all day. Miserable and alone.
I could sit peacefully in silence on my own, but Jase interrupted that. If heâs going to babysit me, then heâs going to have to talk to me. A punishment for a punishment. I smile at the snide remark in my head and think about raking up all the good lines Iâve had since I walked out here. I guess Iâm in a bitchy mood. Good luck to my adversaries.
âWe did,â he answers with a smirk that doesnât hide his pride.
âNo, you didnât.â I donât even hesitate to call him out on his bullshit.
âWhy would you think we didnât?â he asks me, a quizzical look on his face.
âYouâre telling me that you chose lilacs and peonies for the front yard?â I question him, challenging him to tell me that any of the Cross brothers wanted those plants.
Jaseâs expression turns guarded and he clears his throat as he looks toward the very bushes that give me my argument.
âOur mother wanted lilacs and peonies.â His admission is spoken simply, flatly. âShe asked for them for Motherâs Day, but she died just before,â he tells me, and his voice dims toward the end.
âIâm sorry,â I say and keep my tone gentle. âI didnât mean-â
âItâs fine,â he says and waves me off. âI get what you mean, but yeah, we designed it. A few years back.â A gust of wind blows by, sweeping some of my hair in front of my face and some behind my back, leaving a chill in its wake and reminding me that it is, in fact, fall.
âWell, itâs beautiful,â I tell him genuinely. I ignore the chill in the air and wrap my arms around myself. Goosebumps threaten, but Iâm not ready to go back inside and the sun feels warm. I could lie in the sun all day, but it looks like I barely have an hour before the trees on the edge of the estate will hide it from me.
âYou arenât planning on running, right?â Jase asks me and turns around to look at me with a stern look on his face. âIâd like to keep my balls, and Iâm sure Carter would take them if I let you leave.â
Laughter erupts from me just because of how serious he looks. His expression changes to one of humor and I find myself surprised by him yet again. Shaking my head, my hair tickling my shoulders I tell him, âDaniel told me itâs useless with the guards.â I shrug as if itâs all a joke.
Thatâs what my captivity is apparently, a fucking joke. Yet, thereâs only a modest pang of despair from that thought.
Jase huffs and looks over to the right side of the yard. And the way he does it makes me think Danielâs lying. Like Jase is hiding something from me.
âThere are guards?â I question him. âArenât there?â
He looks me up and down for a moment like heâs considering telling me something.
âYeah,â he nods and tells me, âwe have a few posted along the fences.â
I acknowledge what he said with a small nod, but donât respond. Instead, I think about taking a walk to clear my head, but Iâm sure Jase would follow me like a lost puppy and I wouldnât be able to think anyway.
âWe told them to just taze the pretty brunettes, though.â
I give Jaseâs joke a small laugh and lean forward to run my hand down my legs before considering if he was being truthful. âYouâre joking?â I ask him, and he shrugs like an asshole with a shit-eating grin on his face.
âYouâre in a good mood today,â I mutter sarcastically.
âRight back atcha.â
Time passes easily for a moment, but much to my dismay the clouds come in and capture the sun before Iâm ready for the warmth to leave me.
âYou want a blanket?â Jase asks me, and I glance at him, watching as he stands up, stretching his back and wincing as he holds his ass. âYou might want to bring a chair out too if youâre staying longer,â he tells me, and I canât help but smile.
âI may go in; I donât know,â I tell him and thatâs when my dumb heart reminds me that Iâll have to see Carter and that heâs being weird and distant⦠and stupid and guarded and a fucking dick. My throat goes dry and I let out a distressed breath. I canât look at Jase when I do. I know he saw, though.
âYou know he has it bad for you, right?â he asks me and that dryness in my throat travels higher, making me feel like Iâll choke if I speak, so I donât.
âDonât hurt him,â Jase tells me, and I whip my eyes to his, craning my neck since heâs standing up now.
âMe?â I ask him incredulously. âFirst of all, I donât hurt people. Secondly, he wonât let me close enough to even think of hurting him. Whatever we have is very one-sided and,â I try to keep going, but my words crack, and I hate it. I hate that Iâm emotional over this. I hate that Iâm close to admitting how much I feel for him and that whatever he feels for me isnât even close to being the same. I get why Beauty fell in love with the Beast, but it doesnât change who Carter is. Thereâs no magical rose or kiss that will turn him into a prince. All Carter will ever be is a beast.
That ragged breathing comes back, and I stand up, ready to make a cup of tea and go hide in the den, or maybe the new room, the white room, the pretty room with the replicas of what I used to be in it. Whatever the hell that gilded room is. My hideaway room.
âHey, hey,â Jaseâs voice is comforting, and he takes a step closer to me, but doesnât touch me as he says, âHeâs had a hard time.â
âYeah, well, so have I.â I bite out the words and surprisingly keep the bitterness in my voice to a minimum.
âHeâs had a decade of hard times, of people he loved dying, his only friend and brother leaving him, and then other fucked up shit. It was a never-ending cycle until he became the person he is now.â
I glance up at Jase, but only for a second because I donât want to cry. He looks sympathetic at least, and genuine, but right now I need to know something will change. I donât need excuses; theyâre never good for anything.
âWhat are you doing out here?â Carterâs sharp voice makes me jump and I nearly fall backward on the stairs but catch myself. My heart pounds and for the first time, I feel real fear since coming outside.
âAre you crying?â Carter asks me with disbelief and then turns to Jase with a look that could kill.
âShe was just talking about you, actually,â Jase answers Carter slowly, and the two stare at each other for a long, hard moment.
âI wanted some fresh air for a minute,â I say to break up their moment, not holding back my anger as I continue. âI got lucky enough that my cage door was open.â With those parting words, I step past both of them, brushing against Carter as I do and hating that I breathe in his scent, feel his warmth, and love them both.
I need a cup of tea, a good book if I can find one in my new room, my hideaway room, and some time to ignore the world.
But Carter doesnât give me that. I make it two steps inside the door before he snatches my elbow. I rip my arm away and he looks at me like he doesnât understand. Like Iâm the one whoâs acting out of the ordinary.
âWhatâs wrong?â he asks me, concern lacing the demand to answer him.
âAre you fucking serious?â I donât contain my outrage even though I should have. Carterâs eyes narrow and darken, but I donât let it stop me. My heart races and it hurts harder with each thump.
âYouâre being an asshole. An even bigger one than usual.â
âBe gentle,â I hear Jase say quietly as he shuts the front door, hiding the last bit of light from the day and leaving us with the sound of his trailing footsteps. Part of me wonders if heâs talking to me or to Carter.
âIâm sorry,â Carter says through clenched teeth, almost like those words werenât meant to come from him in this moment. He shifts his weight from his left to his right and looks down at me with a look that elicits both fear and that dark desire I canât deny.
A rumble of low irritation settles in his chest as he tells me, âMind the way you speak to me.â
âYou should do the same,â I bite back without thinking. But itâs true. His eyes flash with anger, but he doesnât speak. His jaw is held firm and I bet if he were to clench his teeth any tighter, theyâd break. âYou treat me like a child,â I tell him and then swallow thickly, feeling the knotted ball grow tighter in my throat. âYou donât want me near you, you donât talk to me. And last nightâ¦â I canât finish because again I feel like Iâm going to cry, and I swear Iâm not going to. Not here.
He doesnât let me love him. But itâs because Iâm his whore. I already know thatâs the answer. Itâs why he didnât kiss me for as long as he did. Iâm meant to be his whore and nothing more.
A moment passes where Iâm just breathing. Staring into the eyes of a man who can make me feel so much, but right now it all hurts. I want him to hold me and let me hold him back. I want to slap him and tell him heâs an asshole and that I hate him. I want him to tell me that he loves me, and he doesnât think of me like I think he does.
In a matter of seconds, I go through a fantasy where everything will be okay.
âGive me your hand,â Carter commands me. I jut out my chin, hellbent on telling him to fuck off, but he has a pull over me. The depth of pain in the hollows of his dark eyes makes me bend to his will. Slowly, I bring my hand up for him to take it. Even if I am just his whore, obeying his command.
I watch as he presses my hand to his phone, flattening it and then turns his back on me, walking to a panel by the front door.
I can feel my eyebrows pinch together.
Carter already said heâs sorry once. I doubt heâll say it again. At this point, I donât even know what I want him to say. His words arenât the problem, itâs his actions.
âIf youâre going back outside, grab a coat.â His words are stern but thereâs a trace of melancholy there. Press your hand here, he demonstrates. He gave me access. My heart flickers to life, and I hate that it does. Itâs the things like this that make me question what I am to him.
âI wasnât going back out tonight,â I tell him weakly. Wanting more from him, but not knowing how much to push him. My eyes dart from his to the door. Carterâs a hard man and maybe heâs had a hard life, but I need more than what he gave me last night and today.
I donât know if Iâm in a position to ask for it, to demand it, or if Carter is even capable of giving me more than this. And if he goes through with his plans, all of this is for naught.
âWell, whenever you do,â Carter tells me but when my eyes reach his, he moves his attention back to his phone.
I glance down at what heâs doing only to find him exit whatever it was and thatâs when I see todayâs date.
And thatâs when this little truce no longer matters.
Nothing matters.